


Sew Your Heart to My Sleeve

by drosophilase



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 23:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drosophilase/pseuds/drosophilase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Kurt finally inquires about Blaine’s public serenades, a 4.01 reaction fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sew Your Heart to My Sleeve

**Author's Note:**

> Tiny bit of barebacking/rimming/fingering (I was tentatively stretching my smut muscles).

Kurt hugs himself, knees tucked to his chest, as his boyfriend— his silly, _wonderful_  boyfriend— serenades him right then and there in the middle of McKinley High’s courtyard.

He can’t help the smile on his face even if he should feel a little embarrassed, because of course Blaine would do this.  Of course Blaine would hide the band in the stairwell, and use his bit of newfound popularity to get the Cheerios involved, and of course he would choreograph an elaborate routine with stepping and  _cups_.  It’s just so  _Blaine_.

The familiar swell in his chest, like his heart is suddenly just too full to stay inside, cuts sharply as the song comes to an end because that’s just it— it’s the end.  The last time Blaine will ever sing to him in the courtyard.  As Blaine steps down, that look of pure joy and accomplishment undercut by just a smidgen of pride, Kurt can’t help but remember another day in the courtyard,  _two_  other days, even, where wonderful, adorable Blaine had planned and schemed and coordinated to surprise Kurt with a song.

Kurt can’t even pretend to be upset, his stern expression falling apart quickly and his arms moving by instinct to circle Blaine’s neck.  Blaine’s happy sigh in his ear is almost too much for Kurt to handle, everything just so beautiful and sweet and final, and he chokes out, “I’m going to miss you so much.”

The words seem so trivial as they leave Kurt’s mouth, not nearly enough to represent all the things he needs to say—  _I love you I need you I’ll wait for you I don’t know how to be without you_ — but Blaine squeezes him just a little bit tighter and Kurt knows that Blaine understands just like he always does.

Kurt will say those things and more, so Blaine will know them beyond any shadow of doubt.  But for now the words he did say are enough, and Kurt reluctantly lets Blaine go so he can acknowledge the thunderous applause echoing through the courtyard.

Blaine’s the one who’s a little bit embarrassed now, and he bows just the tiniest bit, making Kurt laugh even though he’s blinking back tears.  Kurt claps right along with the crowd until his hands tingle and ache and he’s the last one clapping as the students wander off to the next spectacle.

Blaine’s eyes are warm and full of light like they always are when he looks at Kurt, and the ache in Kurt’s chest seems there to stay.  Kurt takes a shaky breath when Blaine reaches out to touch his elbow, a silent question.

“I guess I have some packing to do,” Kurt says quietly, trying to smile to show Blaine that he’s okay, that they’re okay.  Blaine answers with his own smile, small and a little sad, but real.

“Then I’ll escort you to your car,” he replies just as low, reaching down to lace their hands together as they set off towards the parking lot.

—-

Blaine is the only other person in the world, beautiful and flushed red down his chest, mouth open in rapture.  Kurt fights the tiredness threatening to engulf him from his own orgasm as he works his fist over Blaine’s cock, mouthing at the base.

“Just… a little…” Blaine chokes out between moans, his hands anchored in Kurt’s hair.  Kurt kisses lower, edging toward Blaine’s open, fucked entrance.  Blaine’s groaning like Kurt is torturing him and he goes for it, fucking his tongue into Blaine.  With with two more firm strokes to his cock Blaine’s coming, screaming Kurt’s name and thrashing a little as white streaks paint his belly.

Kurt wipes off Blaine’s stomach with a towel and strokes his back gently as he comes down gradually, his body shuddering with the aftershocks of his release.  He tucks Blaine’s head under his chin and murmurs little praises into his temple, punctuating each one with a kiss.

When the shudders don’t stop, Kurt pulls back just enough to see the tears on Blaine’s face.

“Honey,” Kurt murmurs reassuringly, pressing more kisses to his skin, his hairline just curling with sweat,  anywhere he can reach.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Blaine whispers over and over, clinging to Kurt with one arm wrapped around his neck and the other around his waist.

“It’s okay,” Kurt replies every time, stroking his skin gently as he cradles Blaine’s head in his hands.  His precious head with his eyes so big, clear, expressive and his eyebrows like bold punctuation marks and his hair that he refuses to let Kurt try to style with mousse instead of gel.  Kurt kisses each one, giving special attention to the tear tracks that slip sideways off Blaine’s precious face and disappear into the pillowcase.

“I love you,” Kurt says.  “I love every part of you.  I love only you.  Forever.”

He doesn’t stop kissing, pressing love into every bit of Blaine he can reach until Blaine stops crying and stops apologizing and starts to slip into sleep.  When his eyelids droop Kurt tucks his head in again, safe and sound and loved, and lets his own eyes close.

—-

Kurt floats in a half-dreaming state, a familiar voice keeping me awake while the soft sheets try to pull him back into sleep.  The voice is almost as warm and cozy as the sheets, but has a fierce edge that keeps pulling at Kurt’s consciousness.

“You have to go, Kurt.”

The words are whispered, laced with conviction and urgency.   

“I can’t wait to see your name on the cover of a magazine, engraved on a statuette, in lights on the biggest marquee in Times Square.  I know I will, I know you will.  You shine brighter than every light in New York City.  You belong there.”

A pause, and Kurt almost succumbs to the sweet siren call of the warm covers when a broken, shuddery breath breaks the silence.

“But, you belong with me too.  And one day soon, Kurt, so soon this night will be like yesterday and years ago all at once,  _soon_  I’ll be there holding your hand and kissing you and clapping for you.  I love you, Kurt, I  _need_  you, I…”

The rough tone to the whispers fades away and the battle to stay awake inches closer to a loss.  A pair of strong arms pull him impossibly closer and Kurt snuggles into the bare chest, an easy smile curving his lips as he gives in to sleep.

—-

Blaine’s room is just turning from greys to defined colors when Kurt wakes again, the stripes of weak morning light filtering through the blinds distorting his vision.  He’s propped up on pillows, wrapped up in warmth.

He blinks slowly, his body reluctant to leave the bliss of lost consciousness until he registers what woke him up— wet, loud, sloppy kisses.  A mouth is steadily making its way across Kurt’s shoulder, the cool air on his arm telling him it started at his fingertips.

There’s humming, too, punctuated by the little sucking noises of each kiss.  The tune sounds familiar, but Kurt can’t place it, just letting the gentle rumble wash over him without carrying meaning.

It’s sweet and luxuriously slow until the mouth gets to his collarbone.  A hard sucking kiss sends a shiver down Kurt’s spine and the small bite that follows makes him cry out.

“ _Blaine_ ,” he gasps, his eyes finally focusing on Blaine’s devastatingly hazel eyes, the smile on his face no less than radiant.

“Good morning,” he says, leaning in to give Kurt a proper kiss.  Kurt gives a little satisfied murmur in response, kissing Blaine back in kind, lingering the press of their lips as long as he can.

Blaine pulls away with that same beautiful smile only to resume his path.  He never stops humming, and Kurt recognizes the pattern enough to know that it’s a song, but he still can’t connect the notes with a memory.  His kisses roughly suck hickeys into Kurt’s fair skin one minute and then are feather light the next, barely brushing the dip of his throat.  It’s maddening, sexy but reverent and Kurt squirms, his body torn between hot lust and melted adoration.

It’s only when Blaine blows a raspberry into his armpit that Kurt starts laughing, shrieking in surprise and throwing his head back, pawing at Blaine’s shoulder to make him stop.  He knows his face is scrunching up horribly and he can’t breathe but Blaine is laughing too, his warm breath in little bursts over Kurt’s stomach where his forehead is pressed.

“What a way to wake up,” Kurt giggles as his laughter starts to subside, running his fingers over and almost through Blaine’s hair where the gel has started to break up.  
Blaine lifts his head and rests his chin on his forearm, his body draped over Kurt’s chest, smile a little sad but his eyes still so warm.

“Well,  _I don’t ever wanna let you down_ ,” he sings softly, reaching out to stroke Kurt’s cheek.

Suddenly lyrics and melody align in Kurt’s mind and  _oh._   That’s it.  Kurt reaches up to grab Blaine’s hand, kissing every knuckle and fingertip before he intertwines them.  Blaine returns the favor, four kisses in a straight line down the back of Kurt’s hand before he rests them in front of his nose.

“I do have one question,” Kurt says quietly, smiling a little.  “I’m not complaining in the slightest, but why did you decide to sing for me in front of everyone?  You could have done it in the choir room, or even here in your bedroom.  Why in the courtyard?”

Blaine’s eyes widen a little like that was the last thing he expected to hear.  Kurt half-expects him to refuse to answer and is about to launch into a hasty apology when instead Blaine hides, pressing his face to Kurt’s chest again.  His resigned groan reverberates over Kurt’s skin and he mumbles something that sounds pained.

“Hmm?” Kurt questions gently, squeezing Blaine’s hand to encourage him and not knowing whether he should laugh or be concerned.  Blaine sighs, pulling his face back up but not quite meeting Kurt’s eyes.

“Ever since that stupid…  _Gap Attack_ ,” he bites out like the words physically pain him,  clenching his eyes shut at the memory.

Kurt has to fight to keep down giggles.  Blaine’s blunders in love used to make Kurt want to throw up or throw anything he could get his hands on, but after a year and a half Kurt and Blaine are finally in a place where the disastrous memories are funny.

“Stop it, Kurt!  I sang about sex toys!”  Well, Kurt thinks they’re funny.

“Well, I would have stopped you,” Kurt begins, and Blaine makes a choked-off scoffing noise.  

“But,” Kurt interjects before he can start protesting. “Call me selfish, but I was really, really wishing for that plan to backfire.”

Blaine still looks indignant for a moment and Kurt just smiles.  Eventually Blaine’s face softens and he smiles too.

“I’m so glad it did,” he breathes, picking up their interlocked hands to kiss Kurt’s again.  

And it’s just like before but this time it’s Kurt who returns it, sucking little kisses to Blaine’s wrist.

“Ever since the Gap Attack,” Blaine finally continues, Kurt making a great effort tokeep his lips sealed, “I kind of got a complex about singing for someone like that.  Putting so much into it, getting other people involved, only to get rejected?  It was the  _worst_.”

Kurt wrinkles his nose at that, remembering torturous hours of rehearsal for Blaine’s wooing of someone else, and then the long days of dealing with Blaine’s badly bruised ego.

“But,” he says, and now he’s smiling again as he reaches up to smooth out Kurt’s fond disgust with a fingertip, “then I found someone who was worth it all.  The work, the risk, and the reward.  And suddenly that Gap performance seemed like the most careless thing in the world.”

Kurt can’t help the sharp inhale, the tears that gather but don’t fall.  This is  _his_ boyfriend, his Blaine, this perfectly imperfect creature willing to jump as long as Kurt’s there to catch him.  He can’t hold back one short sob,  unable to stop his silly grin as he cups Blaine’s face with his free hand.  Blaine turns and kisses the palm of the hand on his cheek.

“And I swear to you, Kurt,” Blaine says and his eyes are piercing, his eyebrows lowered in sincerity, “that I will make a fool out of myself in public as many times as I have to to make it up to you.  I’ll stage a performance in Central Park or get my face put on the big screen in Times Square.  I’ll organize a flash mob in every state this side of the Mississippi River if that’s what it takes.”

It’s so ridiculous that Kurt could laugh but it’s so heartbreakingly honest that he’s crying, the tears welling up and spilling over as he shakes his head slowly.  He’s laughing through the tears, too, at how absurd and earnest and ridiculously sweet he is.

“ _Blaine_ ,” is all he can say, tugging on the hand still interwoven with his so that Blaine will move up and he can get to his lips easily.  Blaine’s eyes hovering just above his are unsure, waiting on the approval that Kurt is all too happy to give.

“Though it is much appreciated, you don’t have to yell from the rooftops or sing with elaborate choreography to prove anything to me, Blaine.”  

For a second he looks completely crushed, his shoulders coming up to his ears.  Kurt squeezes the hand he’s holding, waiting until Blaine meets his eyes again.  “Just knowing that you want to do that for me, that you  _have_  done that for me, is more than enough to make me feel loved.”

And Kurt almost has to squint against the heart-stopping luminance of Blaine’s smile and his bright eyes shiny with tears suddenly so close.

“I do love you, Kurt,” he says just a hair’s breadth from his lips.  A wave of renewed safety, comfort,  _love_  sweeps fully through Kurt from his lips to his toes, raising bumps everywhere it touches.  “I’m so in love with you. Always, forever.”

Unable to keep himself away any longer, Kurt lifts his head to close the distance between them.  It’s just a press of two smiles at first, neither one of them able to stop grinning to kiss.  But then Blaine cradles his jaw and presses his head back to the pillows as he shifts to align their bodies from chest to toe.

Kurt can’t help the contented sigh that hums through his chest because this is home, this is where he feels most accepted and comfortable and  _right_.  Blaine presses a series of sweet chaste kisses to his lips, drawing out each kiss to two breaths, then three as Kurt wriggles a little with wanting  _more_.  

Blaine pulls back farther for a moment and Kurt cracks an eye open to catch a glimpse of his playful smirk before Blaine’s lips are back on his.  This time each one lasts a little bit longer than the one before, Blaine’s mouth a little more open each time until he’s got Kurt’s bottom lip between his.

Kurt grips his shoulders and licks into his mouth and suddenly all control is gone, Blaine capturing Kurt’s hair between his fingers and gasping for air.  It’s equal parts joy and desperation, the drag of their lips, like something is so desperately needed but the consequences of having it could be terrible.

It doesn’t feel like an ending but it does feel like a conclusion, like the punctuation at the end of a sentence.  Kurt knows the story isn’t over, but  he struggles to remember that in the light of so many pages of separation.

He kisses Blaine fiercely, channeling into his lips every bit of hope and longing he has so he can give it to Blaine, tell him in every way possible.

—-

And later, when Kurt’s covered in sweat trying to catch his breath and get his limbs working again, Blaine will resume his path of worshipping kisses.  This time he sings, low and pure and beautiful.

_“It’s time to build from the bottom of the pit right to the top.  Don’t look back.”_

“I don’t need to look back to see you,” he counters.  ”Only up, only forward.”


End file.
